


Tamed

by ShuFlyPie



Series: Built to Fall Apart [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Damian Needs a Hug, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, no profreading we die like mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 11:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShuFlyPie/pseuds/ShuFlyPie
Summary: A Damian’s childhood ficlet.Set during Batman and Robin (2011) #0, and just after Nightwing (2016) #21 I guess?





	Tamed

“Mama, why is my name Damian?”he had asked his mother, years ago. Even in his memories, softened and dull and golden, she was so bright. 

“Your name comes from the Greek word _Damianos_. It means ‘to tame’ and taming this wild world is what you will do as the Al Ghul dynasty takes shape,” his mother had informed him, gesturing outwards, towards the solomonic columns that led out into the bigger world. 

He didn’t have an idea of what the world was, then. They were standing in the centre of the rotunda, upon which a map of the world was drawn, and for Damian the world was nothing but the fuzzy carpet under his toes and the rare affection moments he got to share with his mother on his birthday. Eventually, the world would be consumed by the shadows cast by mountaintops and skyscrapers and evil men during his excursions away from the Al Ghul stronghold, during his first assassinations, during his Year of Blood. 

He became as wild as the world, and it wasn’t until he shed his name that he became tame. 

“Robin,” Nightwing called through the communicator. It was still strange to hear Grayson’s voice; Damian had gotten used to the raspy Batman growl. 

The name was not his, not really. His mother had never affectionately called him _her little Robin_ as Grayson’s parental figures had. But he had inherited it, the mantle of Robin, as a gift from Grayson so he could _save_ people, catch them because it was the right thing to do. Being Robin was an opportunity to redeem himself. He was aware that his world cannot be unmade, untamed. He already has too much blood on his hands. He knows his world is made of aching joints and loneliness and green combat boots too big for his feet; he faces a future of death and pain and uncertainty. He doesn’t want to tame the world anymore. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to save it. 

“Coming,” he responded, swinging to the sound of Nightwing’s chatter and promises of an extra round of Cheese Vikings.


End file.
